


A matter of timing

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Series: Holiday Friendship Fics [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even if Dick is too busy to remember it, his next heat is right on schedule. Thankfully, Bruce <i>always,</i> has a backup plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A matter of timing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [st00pz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/st00pz/gifts).



> For st00pz who is sweeter than sugar and one of the kindest people ever. Thank you for your friendship and your always wonderful commentary on well… everything.

Dick’s heat strikes near the end of patrol.

He’s with Bruce, thank god, but that doesn’t help matters much. One minute, he’s crossing a rooftop ahead of Bruce with Barbara giving him running commentary via the comm unit tucked in his left ear and the next —

Dick staggers as his body starts to feel as if it’s on fire.

Sweat prickles across his skin, at the bend of his elbows and the backs of his knees. The suit that Dick had designed for its flexibility and the freedom of movement that it affords him now feels constraining.

If Dick had a collar with any room to it, he’d be tugging at it to get some air on his skin. Even the brush of his hair across the nape of his neck through the back of his suit leaves him chafing at the thought of being dressed and uncomfortable and  _hot_.

Bruce catches up with Dick easily. He approaches Dick from the side, a questioning frown on his face.

"Are you alright, Nightwing?" Bruce asks in his normal voice and not the growling one that he uses as Batman. He reaches for Dick when he’s close enough, one gauntleted hand closing tight around Dick’s elbow just in time.

At the touch of Bruce’s hand, Dick’s knees buckle. He sways and almost falls flat on his face despite Bruce’s presence — or maybe, Dick manages to think past the heat haze trying its best to wipe all rational thought from his head, Bruce’s presence is causing some of the intensity of his reaction.

"I need to go," Dick says, staring at Bruce’s hand on his forearm instead of at the other man’s face. "I’m — I’m in heat. I can’t patrol like this and you need to finish up. I’m sorry, B." The apology is instinctive. Even though Dick knows that Bruce understands, the heat haze makes him think otherwise. "I know you wanted to check in on Robin’s project together, but I just —"

Bruce shakes his head and Dick falls silent.

"It’s fine," Bruce murmurs. "Robin will understand. I won’t leave you to deal with this alone." The hand he has on Dick’s arm releases its grip and shifts to touch the side of Dick’s face, tilting his head up so that Bruce can get a good look at his face in the light coming from the security lights on the roof they’re standing on.

Even though Dick doesn’t reach up to raise the lenses on his own mask and Bruce wouldn’t dream of undoing  _anything_  on his cowl, the moment their eyes meet, Dick gasps quietly.

"Br —" Dick pauses, flushing at his slip up. "B, are you sure? I’ll be fine. It really isn’t that bad."

Bruce shakes his head. “Oracle,” he says instead of speaking directly to Dick. “You’re getting the biofeedback from Nightwing’s suit, what do you think?”

If Dick is expecting Barbara to take his side or tell Bruce that he’s fine, he’s proven wrong a second later when Barbara’s voice comes on the channel she uses.

"Honestly, Bruce, I’m not sure how he’s even standing right now," Barbara admits. "The heat haze should be overwhelming him now. If you can get someplace safe before it does, that’d be for the best. His stats are — well, they’re all but off the charts."

Barbara pauses and in his ear, Dick hears the tap-tap-tap of her nails against her keyboard. “There’s a safehouse stocked with clothes your size four blocks away. It’ll take you three minutes by rooftop. Sending directions to the cowl now.”

Bruce’s shoulders seem to slump slightly as if releasing the weight of his tension. “Thank you, Oracle,” he says. “We’ll both be offline until tomorrow morning. Let the others know that we’re fine.”

Dick knows he should be focusing on something — something aside from the familiar rumble of Bruce’s low voice as he speaks to Barbara, but he can’t even stop himself from inching close to Bruce and trying to breathe in the big alpha’s always intriguing scent.

"We’ll talk to you tomorrow, Oracle," Bruce says. He pauses before he ends the connection between them. "And thank you."

*

The first thing that Dick does when Bruce helps him through the shadowy rear window of a two-story house that’s older than the both of them is try to get out of his clothes. He’s hot and sticky with sweat as well as his heat-primed body’s natural lubricant. Dick starts tugging at his suit’s top half almost before Bruce makes it into the room behind him.

"B —" Dick’s fumbling is getting him nowhere. What he wants more than anything is to feel Bruce’s hands on his skin. The firm frown on his lover’s face doesn’t look like it’ll lead to that. "Did I — did I do something?"

Bruce shakes his head. “Not yet,” he says.”

He steps forward and settles one hand on Dick’s hip, on the right side where he’s managed to get his suit bunched up high and the jut of his bone feels super visible. The rough texture of Bruce’s gauntlet makes Dick hiss at first and the he has to fight back a whimper as Bruce slides his thumb down until it dips underneath the waistband.

"Please — " Dick hears his own voice shake. The need in it is frankly frightening because he doesn’t hear himself sound like that very often. Usually, Dick has his heat period off and Bruce is with him someplace safe from the start. He doesn’t have to beg.

Bruce leans in close until the only thing that Dick can see or smell is  _him_. His thin-lipped mouth hovers over Dick’s parted lips, teasing him with the promise of a kiss that Bruce might well decide not to deliver.

"Finish undressing," Bruce says, making his words an order. "I need to turn on the alarm in the house." He allows them both a taste of the pleasure to come, pressing a kiss to Dick’s mouth that leaves him gasping with want, before he steps back and smiles, mouth barely quirking. "I’ll be back."

Dick drops down on the nearby bed, mind still reeling from the kiss. On one hand, the heat period is incredibly inconvenient for most things, but on the other — while Bruce’s kisses always leave Dick feeling some kind of weakness, they don’t usually leave his knees weak in reality.

Instead of calling after Bruce like he wants to, Dick tries to focus on getting undressed. He strips as fast as he can despite his fumbling fingers, pulling his clothes off until he’s down to his armored jock and his scars. His fingers hover over the side of the jock for a moment, but then he undoes that as well.

Naked, Dick crawls onto the bed properly. The mattress is firm underneath his knees and the palms of his hands and the sheets smell clean if a little musty. They don’t smell of anything or anyone and Dick allows himself the chance to let his body go loose and a little boneless at the thought of rubbing himself all over the bed.

Time gets a little blurry.

Dick doesn’t know how long Bruce is gone. It could be minutes or seconds, Dick isn’t sure. All he knows is that one minute, he’s in the middle of rolling around on the sheets and pretending that he isn’t actually humping the bed and in the next, Bruce’s hands are on his legs and his mouth is dragging over Dick’s thigh and —

_Oh_.

Bruce really doesn’t need to get his mouth on Dick’s erection, Dick’s more than aroused enough that Bruce could probably just spread him open on the bed and dive in. But he does. He sucks Dick’s cock into his mouth, going down on him without warning and without pause until the head of him nudges against Bruce’s throat.

"Oh god — "

Dick’s hands go to Bruce’s hair, to the short strands of hair that are absolutely  _useless_  as a handhold. He spreads his legs against the sheets, whining as Bruce’s tongue flicks at the sensitive skin just underneath the tip. He feels his body gush slick, just from Bruce touching him and holding him mostly still against the bed.

Of course, he only becomes  _more_  aroused at the press of Bruce’s thick fingers against his hole, pushing deep and opening Dick up further with thrusts of his hand that see Dick practically  _writhing_  against the mattress.

Bruce pulls back slowly, mouth red and slick with spit. He presses one last, lingering kiss to the head of Dick’s cock and then utters a quiet laugh at the way that Dick can’t stop himself from trying to get more from him.

When Bruce moves up on the bed and settles between Dick’s spread legs, it’s like something just  _clicks_  in his head. Some part of Dick’s head (a part he’ll probably deny ever listening to in the future) likes the sight of Bruce easing between his legs, one hand curved around the shaft of his always intimidating erection. It feels like that’s where Bruce belongs and the feeling only intensifies at the first touch of Bruce’s cockhead to his hole.

Then, it just feels right.


End file.
